Where Were You Last Night
by VivianeSyllverMoon
Summary: What if the Queen wasn't alone? What if she had a lover and an ally? What if that person was the Princess of the 8th Kingdom?T for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Cairen, Princess of the Eighth Kingdom, had decided that life was good.

She looked across the ruins of the castle she was currently residing in, her eyes tracking the form of the would-be Queen of the Fourth Kingdom. A small smile flitted over the blonde woman's red lips as she saw the red-head's pale eyes meet her own.

She lifted her hand in a wave, and watched as the other woman pointedly ignored her. She stifled her surprisingly girly laugh and turned towards the portrait of the Queen's mentor. Snow White's stepmother.

Cairen tilted her head to the side, and then walked closer. The woman was beautiful, it was true, and Cairen could see the dark temptation in her eyes. It did not put the blonde off, but only made her appreciate the dead witch more.

She had been looking at the portrait for several minutes before she felt the Queen step up behind her. She inclined her head a few inches, her blonde hair falling lightly over her neck.

"Your Majesty," the Princess greeted.

"Cairen," the Queen returned.

"The coronation plans have proceeded as you hoped?"

"Not exactly," said the Queen.

Cairen turned. "What has happened?" she asked worriedly.

"The troll King, Relish," said the Queen. "He is out of control." Her pale face stayed stoic, even though she stood to lose everything. "I must ask you to stop him."

Cairen searched the Queen's eyes. "Of course, my Lady. Anything for you."

The elder woman closed her eyes in relief.

"When should I depart?" questioned Cairen.

"As soon as possible," the Queen replied.

Cairen nodded. "Immediately, then," she proclaimed, and waved over one of the Queen's servants. "Saddle my horse," she ordered, and began to climb the stairs.

She was surprised to hear the Queen's footfalls behind her, but didn't show it. Normally, the woman would have waited until the last possible second to even acknowledge that Cairen was leaving. Following Cairen would be a blatant display of affection, thus showing that the Queen cared that she was going into danger.

Really, it was amazing that Cairen had enough time on her hands to correctly analyze the Queen's psyche.

They entered Cairen's rooms together, with the Queen's hand resting lightly on Cairen's back. Cairen went straight to her closet while the Queen closed and locked the door.

The Queen then followed Cairen, watching as the blonde threw traveling clothes and her armor onto her bed. After several seconds of contemplation, the Princess chose her white fur-lined cloak over her black pelt one.

"Cairen, this is not going to be simple, even for you," murmured the Queen, her eyes following Cairen's lithe movements.

"I know," said Cairen, as she threw the clothes into her saddlebags. "A troll army is not exactly what I thought I'd be taking care of this morning."

"It is more than that," the other woman said, sitting on the edge of Cairen's bed. "Relish will not be as easy to fell as you thing. He is strong."

Cairen looked to the Queen. "He may be strong," she assented, "but compared to us, he is nothing. With your mirrors and my will, with your magic and my sword arm, with your earth and my ice, we will defeat him."

"You place too much faith in what we can do together," said the Queen as she watched Cairen reach for her sword, which was mounted on the wall. "I have done all I can, and he still walks free. It is up only to you to stop him."

Cairen let out a small grunt as she freed the instrument of war from its place on the mantle above the fireplace. "Then I shall have to be strong enough on my own," she said, her voice full of conviction.

The Queen inclined her head.

Cairen handed the sword to the Queen and went back to her closet, selecting a long turquoise dress with mid-thigh length slits up the sides that allowed her to ride horses astride. It featured a corset-like top with an overlay of black lace imprinted with roses. It was sleeveless.

The Queen watched as the younger woman slithered out of her red dress, and then into the turquoise one. She pulled her hair into a high pony-tail, and slipped on calf-length lace up boots. She quickly did the boots up, and bucked on a sword belt with a bejeweled sheath hanging from it.

The Queen handed Cairen the sword, and the Princess sheathed it.

"Thank you," she said.

The Queen merely nodded in reply, and stood, her purple dress dragging on the floor before she could lift it.

Cairen slung her saddlebags over her shoulder and strode after the Queen, closing the door behind them as they left the room.

They made their way down the ruined courtyard. The Queen stopped at the edge, while Cairen went straight up to her now-saddled black horse. She fixed the saddlebags on it, and mounted.

"I will not return until I have vanquished the enemy or I am dead," she vowed.

"Godspeed," the Queen whispered, as Cairen took off towards the horizon.


	2. Reflections

_My muses forced me to continue._

* * *

Cairen, Princess of the Eighth Kingdom, had decided that life was better when she wasn't riding through a dark, wet wood with nothing to do but attempt to come up with varying (and progressively more outlandish) methods of assassination to use on Relish.

She was in the middle of an extremely elaborate, extremely non-functional plan that involved a lightning bolt, the Queen's Huntsman, and a freak snowstorm when a familiar pounding in her head began.

She gasped at the pain, and groped for her sword. When her fingers encountered its hilt, she drew it, holding it in front of her face. The perfectly polished steel acted as a mirror, or at least enough of one to satisfy the Queen, whose face appeared in the weapon.

"Yes?" hissed the Princess.

"Are you close to him?" asked the Queen.

"No," replied Cairen. "Nowhere near."

"A pity," replied the Queen. "I have his children here, in the castle, with me. If you want to use that on him in some way."

"I will," said Cairen. "Excellent. Thank you, my Lady."

The Queen smiled, and faded away.

Cairen pulled up on her horse's reins, sheathing her sword. She twisted in the saddle, rummaging in her saddlebags. In less time than she had expected, her fingers encountered the smooth, cold stem of a magic Quicksilver mirror. She pulled it out, grinning predatorily at her own reflection.

The mirror was a small one—only a palms width's length across. It was fairly nondescript as far as beauty went, with the only decoration being the small faeries that seemed to be frozen, cast in silver along the rim of the mirror.

"Mirror, mirror, in my debt,

The Troll King is near, that I will bet.

Tell me now and tell me true

The best way to get to him from you."

The mirror responded in a light, clear voice. "Princess, Princess, of frost and snow,

How to get to Relish I do not know.

But he plans to move soon this hour

And will be in a town called Eventower."

Cairen sighed. Just like a mirror—tell her not where Relish is, but where he's going… "Mirror, mirror, of Quicksilver true,



That Relish will be in Eventower, who knew?

The way to this town I have forgotten,

So show me the path no longer trodden."

"Princess of Magic, Sword and Strength,

The road to Eventower is long in length.

It lies just past yonder tree grove;

Part the branches and find the treasure trove."

Frowning, Cairen dismounted and redrew her sword, leading her horse into the grove with her sword at ready and her mirror clutched close to her chest.


End file.
